


A Work of Art

by ZeroPlusOne



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: M/M, Taehyun is an angry fluffball with a crush, tiny tiny jinhoon but still adorbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6967138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroPlusOne/pseuds/ZeroPlusOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taehyun, broke and quite the cynic, is commissioned to paint the album cover of an indie band.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Work of Art

Like most days, Taehyun is bored out of his wits, flipping through a year-old GQ he nabbed from the upscale cafe across the street when the unsuspecting barista wasn’t looking. He isn’t one to pander to the trend of spending ridiculous amounts of money on branded coffee, but Taehyun was running on little sleep when he got to work that morning and decided to order the least expensive beverage on the menu, which in his opinion was still grossly overpriced, and had taken the magazine as a deserved freebie.

It’s hours after when he hears the chime of the front door’s overhead bell for the first time all day, and Taehyun is halfway up his seat to greet who he assumes is a customer until Jinwoo’s face pops into view instead, perpetually bright and far too cheerful for his liking. He sinks into his chair with a disappointed huff.

“Oh it’s just you,” he mutters mostly to himself and goes back to the page he was on, his eyes enviously scanning a preppy, Oxford-esque outfit on the incredibly hot Yoo Ah In that’s just his style. Taehyun sighs, knowing he’ll never be able to afford it, but looking at Yoo Ah In is still very nice regardless.

“You could at least pretend like I don’t ruin your day when I visit,” Jinwoo snorts, walking up to Taehyun’s desk and taking a seat on one of the rickety stools across from him. The desk doesn’t really belong to Taehyun, but Mr. Hong – store owner, Taehyun’s boss, and resident grumpy old man – is away on vacation for the rest of the month, which is perfect because Taehyun could do without his endless nagging. Plus, his seat is the coolest spot in the store and the summer heat has been getting on Taehyun’s nerves lately.

“You know my days are always bad, there's nothing to ruin. And besides, I know that look, hyung,” Taehyun says, meeting Jinwoo’s large eyes. Taehyun has known Jinwoo for years and has developed an immunity to the facade of innocence Jinwoo always wears, the one that gets people to do his bidding every time. “That’s a look that is in need of a favor and nothing about that makes me even remotely happy to see you.”

“I resent that assumption.”

“ _Please_. You only visit me at work when you want something from me.”

“Ouch,” Jinwoo grimaces. “It pains me to know my favorite _dongsaeng_ thinks of me this way.” His hand flies to his chest melodramatically and he twists his face into a wounded expression that is  _oh so fake_. Taehyun can recognize this shtick from a mile away, so he braces himself for what comes next.

“I remember when you were just nineteen,” Jinwoo begins and Taehyun’s face contorts instantly. “I was young and broke, very idealistic and much too generous. You were in need of a job, and I had no reason to help you. But I recall the look on your sad, pretty face and something in my heart stirred. I told myself – Kim Jinwoo, this is your chance to be a good person. Help this boy. So I did, and look at you now. Sometimes I wonder what would have become of you if I turned you away when you needed me the most. I’m practically your life hero but do I ever say anything about it?”

Taehyun raises a hand to massage his temples, eyes closing in resignation. He asks the universe for patience, the same universe that was vicious enough to make his path cross with Jinwoo’s some six years ago.

“What do you want?”

Jinwoo’s expression changes in an instant, lips curling up, eyes glinting in mischief and Taehyun knows he’s in deep shit. Because this face is only really reserved for when Jinwoo comes up with the worst ideas ever and ropes Taehyun in to suffer the consequences when things tank.

He decides he really hates Jinwoo.

Jinwoo sets a CD case in front of him, beaming from ear to ear. It looks like one of those blank CDs you can buy for a dollar or less. Taehyun tilts his head in curiosity. “What’s this?”

“Only the best thing ever,” Jinwoo answers with zeal, large eyes growing ridiculously larger.

Taehyun does not know what kind of response Jinwoo is looking for to his obvious exaggeration, but he settles for his  _‘so what?’_  look as he crosses his arms and waits for Jinwoo to continue.

“Bicycles,” Jinwoo says. His lips pop at the ‘b’ and then he proceeds to stare at Taehyun expectantly as if that should mean anything.

Taehyun sighs, face blank. “I don’t think we’re communicating properly.”

Jinwoo gives him a stunned look, complete with arched brows and a jaw drop. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of them?”

“What– I’ve fucking heard of bicycles, hyung. They’re  _bicycles,_ things people ride because they’re tree huggers or health freaks or they can’t afford a fucking car.”

It’s Jinwoo’s turn to frown with obvious frustration and Taehyun stops himself from physically pushing him out of the store before he really loses it. He’s not in any mood to play a guessing game with Jinwoo, and if he’s going to ask for a favor then he should just blurt it out.

Jinwoo waves a hand too close to Taehyun’s face. “I’m not talking about those bicycles, I meant the  _indie_  band,  _Bicycles._ Ring a bell?”

Taehyun has been to a few underground gigs in his time, although not often. Anyway, it was back when he could still afford the occasional Saturday night outs, and that was quite some time ago. Taehyun searches his mind for a name that clicks and when nothing does, he gives Jinwoo a pointed look.

“Who the fuck names their band after bicycles _?_ ”

“Bands like  _Girls_  and  _Marbles_  and  _Cults_  and they’re all awesome so stop being snarky because you’re missing the point,” Jinwoo tugs at the strap of the messenger bag on his lap and sifts through it, leaving Taehyun to roll his eyes and wait because, well, it’s not like he has anywhere else to go.

“The track list with all their lyrics,” Jinwoo places a bunch of papers on the desk. “It’s for their new album.”

Taehyun makes a move to grab the papers, but Jinwoo swats his hand away before he could even touch them. He makes a gasping sound that turns into a disbelieving scoff. Taehyun never could understand Jinwoo’s flair for the dramatic.

“Before anything else, you have to understand how important this is,” Jinwoo purses his lips, looking earnest enough that Taehyun considers taking him seriously. “ _Bicycles_  is the next big thing. I’m saying HyukOh band big. And these right here,” he slips a hand under the sheets and fishes out the CD, holding it up. “These are top secret, okay? There’s a lot of buzz around this album so if this gets leaked, it’s over. A lot of labels are trying to sign them but they want to stay independent. You know, remain true to their musical roots. That’s how legit they are.”

“Sounds like a bunch of weirdos to me. Who turns down a recording label? They may think the life of a struggling artist is romantic and poignant, but it’s just fucking sad.”  _And Taehyun should know._

Jinwoo hisses and Taehyun rolls his eyes for the nth time since Jinwoo arrived, huffing resignedly. “So okay, this band is the next coming of Christ. What do you want from me?”

“They need an album cover. Preferably by an unknown, up and coming young artist. And I immediately thought of you! You’ve always been brilliant, Taehyun, you just haven’t lived up to your full potential. And you’re the kind of talent they’re looking for. You see, they’re all about breaking the mold, putting the spotlight on hidden gems. That’s Seungyoon’s vision.”

“Of course it is,” Taehyun drawls sarcastically, narrowing his eyes. “So I’m assuming  _Seungyoon_  is the name of the guy whose pants you’re trying to get into?”

Jinwoo’s lips thin out before they curl up slightly at the sides, and Taehyun watches in amusement and mild disgust when the tips of his ears tinge pink. So much for championing the little people.

“Lee Seunghoon. The bassist,” he says dreamily it nearly makes Taehyun gag.

“I don’t do digital art, you know that.”

Jinwoo shakes his head vigorously, excitement coloring his cheeks. “They want a painting. I showed them a picture of one of your works – you know, the award-winning one from college – and they loved it. They want you.”

Taehyun bites the insides of his cheeks at the reminder of his slightly more glorious past. It almost feels like a lifetime ago since he worked on anything that he’s truly proud of. Or at least one that he’s willing to show the public.

Taehyun once had a vision for himself fresh from college. He was going to eat, live, and breathe art until the day he dies. That was until he realized he actually had to  _eat_  in order to  _live,_ and he barely had breathing space in the one-bedroom apartment he could hardly afford without help from his mother. His living situation only left him broke, dry, and uninspired.

Truthfully the prospect of painting again ignites something in his weary bones and he does feel a hint of exhilaration at the thought of his work on an album cover – even though he has zilch information on this  _Bicycles_ band and for all he knows Jinwoo is just really drunk on his infatuation.

On the other hand, he hasn’t painted professionally in nearly two years and his confidence (and possibly skill) has dwindled over time. He may be a washed up artist, but he’d like to hold on to the small ounce of pride he has left. If things don’t go well, it might just be the last blow to Taehyun’s already fragile relationship with his art.

“I don’t know…” he says softly, fingers drumming against the CD case, his mind and heart wrestling at the thought. “I’m out of practice and other than that painting from college, nothing has really worked out for me–“

Jinwoo cuts him off with a loud thump on the table, making Taehyun jump. “Do you hear yourself, Nam Taehyun? You can’t buy the kind of talent you have, and you can’t unlearn it either. It’s in you, _I_ know it and _you_ know it. Now it’s the world’s turn to know,” he says with so much conviction Taehyun is actually touched. At least until he adds, “Besides, do you really see yourself selling wooden toys for the rest of your life? You’re much too pretty for this,” he sweeps the store’s interior with mocking eyes.

Taehyun brings his fingers to his chin, rubbing the edge of his lower lip in deep thought. “How much?”

“Two million,” Jinwoo beams and Taehyun nearly chokes on his own spit. His jaw slacks and he sees the look of pure satisfaction on Jinwoo’s face knowing he’s lured him in. “That’s the standard price for an art piece and they’re willing to pay you that much, as long as they also get to keep the painting.”

Taehyun clears his throat and tries to catch himself from seeming too desperate, but ultimately fails when he sees the knowing crinkle in Jinwoo’s doe eyes. “Timeframe?”

“Two weeks should do it,” Jinwoo says. “The album launch is next month.”

Taehyun sucks in his lower lip between his teeth and picks up the sheets of papers. He catches Jinwoo’s victorious smirk; once again, Taehyun has agreed to one of his schemes. But this time feels different; it could actually be good for Taehyun if things go smoothly.

“Taehyun,” Jinwoo says, tearing Taehyun’s attention away from the papers he’s begun to peruse. “I need you to follow through on this. If you have any problems, any problems at all, call me. And don’t mess this up, please. It’s important.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this so you could get laid.”

“You’re not,” Jinwoo corrects, leaning over to put a hand over Taehyun’s. “You’re doing this for a kickass band, for your own artistic growth and for two million won. And if in the process I can have Seunghoon’s lean, perfect body with washboard abs to end all washboard abs press over mine while I scream his name all night, then so be it. Win-win?”

“You disgust me.”

“You love me.”

Taehyun suppresses a smile. “At this very moment, I don’t.”

Jinwoo stands up with fake indignation. “You’re just jealous because you haven’t gotten laid in a long time. But that’s okay. Think about the guys who are going to throw themselves at you when you’re artwork is slapped on the hottest album to hit South Korea,” Jinwoo wiggles his eyebrows maliciously before turning to the door.

“Oh wait, hyung!” Taehyun gets up from his seat just as the older boy is about to step out. Jinwoo turns around and leans on the doorframe. “That’s it? I’m not going to meet them or anything, discuss what they want to see on the cover?”

Jinwoo shakes his head. “Seungyoon wants the artwork to be purely yours, from what your mind and heart creates.” When Taehyun scrunches his nose, Jinwoo lets out a laugh. “I know, right? He’s even more intense in person. But the real deal, I tell you.”

Taehyun drops to his seat when Jinwoo leaves.

And that’s when he starts freaking out,  _really_ freaking out. This could be a big deal and the pressure is like a giant boulder on his shoulders. He isn’t equipped to handle this,  _not anymore,_ not since he semi-gave up on the artist life. During his short-lived career, Taehyun had disappointed way too many people, himself included. Maybe he didn’t think this through, maybe he can still tell Jinwoo no.

 _Or maybe you can try_ , a voice at the back of his head says, one that he hasn’t heard in a long time. He has two weeks and that’s more than enough if he just spends all his free time on the painting. Maybe he can even paint here, since Mr. Hong isn’t due to come back in three weeks. It’s not like the toy store gets many customers anyway.

All at once, the rush of excitement is back and Taehyun feels restless in his seat. First, he needs to buy all the stuff he needs. He makes a mental list, thinks to ask Jinwoo if maybe the band can shoulder the cost of the materials so he can use the best quality ones.

Yes, he should do that. And he’ll just go from there.

*****

 

“He hates it.”

“What?” Taehyun’s heavy hand almost crushes the half-empty can of soda.

Jinwoo flashes him a distressed look, graver than when he first arrived at Taehyun’s doorstep.

“He hates the painting.”

“He hates the painting,” Taehyun repeats under his breath, like some sort of chant. He shuts his eyes on instinct and exhales, already trying to chase his calm. Because he can feel it coming – the outburst making its way up to his neck. There’s a small dent on the can caused by his strong grip and he has enough sense to set it down the table before he makes a bigger mess.

Taehyun had given Jinwoo the painting only yesterday, six days earlier than the two-week deadline. He did it for good measure, in case something like this happens. But Taehyun didn’t actually  _think_ it would happen. Because contrary to his own expectations, he  _likes_ how the piece turned out. It’s the best work he’s produced since he could remember.

“He used the word  _hate_?” Taehyun asks, voice faltering in disbelief. This must be a joke. Jinwoo is shitting him because he’s a cruel bastard.

“Well, not exactly,” Jinwoo bites the side of his lower lip and it’s a miracle Taehyun hasn’t pounced on him yet, eager to rip him apart. Jinwoo must have seen the flicker in his eyes because he holds a hand up in defense. “But I saw his face when he looked at the painting. He was more than disappointed, Taehyun. He looked almost…  _angry_.”

Taehyun’s hands fall to his sides, clenched so tight his knuckles turn white. His head swirls in unspeakable anger and he could feel a headache coming.

“So what now?” He manages to utter between gritted teeth. Jinwoo winces perceptibly as he speaks. Taehyun can control his body all he wants but the rage must be evident on his face, in his voice.

“They’re, uhh, looking for another artist,” Jinwoo replies, cautious and hesitant. Taehyun notices him inch away from him slightly, perhaps scared that Taehyun might become violent. He thinks it’s wise because right now, Taehyun isn’t sure he could stay composed either.

Taehyun arches a brow. “And the money?”

“Seungyoon said you can keep what you used for the materials. For your, uhm…  _effort_.”

And right then, Taehyun sees red, more insulted by this than the actual rejection. He’d rather pay the fucking asshole back than allow him to shit all over his hard work. His  _art._

“I need to talk to this  _Seungyoon,_ ” Taehyun spits the name with contempt. He already knows he’s a hateful bastard.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Taehyun,” Jinwoo offers, sounding genuinely concerned. “Just let this go, it’s over.”

Taehyun takes a step forward and Jinwoo physically ducks, covering his head with both arms. He might have let out a squeal but Taehyun couldn’t be sure. He would have found it hilarious, too, if he isn’t so consumed with rage. All he knows is he couldn’t care less about the money, or his pride, for that matter. Who gives a shit about that album anyway?

What he just needs to know what this Seungyoon’s problem is with his painting.

So he demands to know where they are.

Jinwoo doesn’t tell him until after he’s made the argument that if this  _Bicycles_  band is really as famous as Jinwoo made them out to be, Taehyun could find where they are whether Jinwoo tells him or not. The only difference is, Taehyun might just run into them at a  _very_  public place where he may or may not cause a  _very_  public scene. At that point, Jinwoo’s eyes grow wide and he relents. He gives Taehyun the address of their studio after begging him to not do anything that could land him in jail. Or even embarrass himself.

Taehyun holds back the remark that it’s too late for that because he’s utterly humiliated and he needs to gain back some of his dignity.

 

Taehyun goes to the studio that very afternoon.

He isn’t normally one to judge outward appearances, especially since he himself has gone through enough money troubles to know that to an artist, what matters most is that there’s even a place and opportunity to create art. He’s had his fair share of experiences of having to paint in cramped rooms and hold exhibits at obscure basements in shady locations.

But Jinwoo said this band is supposed to be famous and it makes no sense for them to be calling this dump a studio. He wonders if they are pressed for money (which seems unlikely, given the amount they’re willing to pay for their cover) or if this is another one of Seungyoon’s attempts at feeling like a genuine artist. It’s either very naive or very romantic and Taehyun is leaning towards the former.

He tries to push unnecessary thoughts aside and knocks on the door. He does it three times more before he realizes that there’s music coming from inside and it’s possible they’re not hearing anything at all. He tries again, raps harder this time and calls out to anyone inside, to no avail.

Making up his mind, Taehyun clutches the unlocked doorknob and pushes his way inside. The stench of Chinese food fills his nose,  _jajangmyun_ specifically, mixed with cigarette smoke and stale air. The walls are bluish-grey, dotted with frayed posters and crooked frames with pictures of bands and artists he doesn’t know. There are instruments strewn everywhere, making the space look tinier than it actually is. It’s exactly how Taehyun had pictured it from outside, his aversion to the place unwavering.

His eyes fall to the couch where a man is eating voraciously, so concentrated on his noodles that he fails to notice Taehyun’s presence. Another guy, someone taller and leaner, is sitting on a raised stool, his long legs hanging off the sides, grinning while looking down at his phone. A third man sits behind the drum set with his back to him. It doesn’t seem like he’s doing anything other than stare at the opposite wall – but he could be on his phone, too, Taehyun couldn’t be sure.

The music is loud,  _too loud,_ and Taehyun feels that his ears might just bleed if this continues. He tries a weak hello, but none of them hear.

“Hello, I’m Nam Taehyun,” he speaks louder over the music – but they don’t look up. Taehyun considers the possibility that they’ve all gone deaf, which wouldn’t be a surprise if they are in the habit of listening to songs at this volume. He studies the three and decides the guy on the couch seems the easiest to approach.

Taehyun walks toward the couch, does nothing but stand over the guy and it takes a few seconds, but he finally looks up at Taehyun. The guy jerks back, chokes on the chopstick-ful of noodles he just shoved into his mouth, almost letting his bowl spill onto his pants. He feels for the remote control next to him on the couch and presses a button.

Silence fills the room but food guy is still trying to chew and swallow down the contents of his mouth, making weird facial expressions as he does so.

“Hey,” Taehyun bends, tries to examine his face. “Are you okay?”

Food guy grabs the water bottle on the table and takes a long swig before turning to Taehyun again.

“Who are you?” He asks point blank, no niceties, almost petulant. Taehyun tries to hide his displeasure because to be fair, he basically let himself inside without permission. When he takes a quick glance to his left, he sees the other guy on the stool already looking at them curiously, his head tilted to the side.

Taehyun clears his throat and turns back to the couch. He regards food guy carefully, wondering if he’s the pain-in-the-ass  _Seungyoon_ Jinwoo talked about or the  _Seunghoon_ Jinwoo wants to (or probably has already) slept with. He extends a hand.

“I’m Nam Taehyun. The, uhh, the artist you hired.”  _And fired,_ he thinks but doesn’t say.

The guy creases his brows before he makes an ‘o’ with his mouth, like something finally clicked in his brain. “Oh yeah,  _yeah_ , hi. I’m Song Mino,” he runs his right palm along his jeans before taking Taehyun’s hand. “Drummer.”

Taehyun nods and shifts a little to his left upon realizing the tall guy is already standing beside him. He offers Taehyun a wide smile, one that makes his eyes disappear. Taehyun presses his lips together to stop himself from blurting out,  _“you must be Seunghoon,”_  because judging by his defined cheekbones, wide shoulders and incredibly long legs,  _this_ is Jinwoo’s dream guy. So predictable.

“I’m Seunghoon,” he confirms, foregoing the handshake and slapping a hand on Taehyun’s back instead, a gesture too friendly for his liking. “Bassist. So  _you’re_  the Taehyun Jinwoo keeps talking about,” he beams. Taehyun sees the flicker of affection in his eyes and  _yeah okay,_ Jinwoo has definitely slept with him already. It’s no wonder Jinwoo didn’t insist on him being the cover artist for their album anymore.

He makes a mental note to chastise Jinwoo later and maybe he can finally stop emotionally blackmailing Taehyun because he has obviously just traded their six-year friendship for a piece of ass. No matter how hot the ass is.

“Ahh yeah,” Taehyun smiles awkwardly, his eyes landing on the only guy in the room who he hasn’t met. His back is still turned, like nothing going on behind him warrants his attention in the least.  _That one._ It’s  _Seungyoon_ , Taehyun is certain, if his haughty posture is anything to go by. He feels the anger start to bubble in his chest and his hands ball into fists on impulse.

Taehyun doesn’t realize he’s already throwing daggers at the guy’s back, probably even mumbling barely audible curses under his breath until Seunghoon snaps him out of it with a hand on his shoulder.

When Taehyun turns back to him, Seunghoon has an apologetic look on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened,” he says, exchanging a knowing glance with Mino. “I- we actually dig the painting. But uhm, the decision is supposed to be a consensus and well…” his voice trails off, gaze flitting to the drum set where Seungyoon still sits unmoving.

Taehyun offers Seunghoon a smile despite his growing rage. “Do you mind if I talk to him in private?” He asks, jutting his chin towards Seungyoon.

“Oh. Uhm, yeah, I guess,” he turns to Mino, who only shrugs and gives Taehyun an uneasy smile. Seunghoon then excuses himself and walks to where Seungyoon is seated. Taehyun notices Seungyoon remove an earpiece. So  _that’s_  the reason why he isn’t aware of what’s going on behind him.

“Seunghoon hyung and I will be outside then,” Mino points to the door and scurries out as soon as Seunghoon comes back. He gives Taehyun another tap on the shoulder before he and Mino are out the door.

The studio becomes eerily silent, and Taehyun finds himself staring at Seungyoon’s back, trying to think of all the things he wants to say to him. Before he can take a step to approach him, Seungyoon stands up from his seat.

He’s also tall – as tall as himself, a little thinner than Seunghoon. He’s wearing a bleached out denim jacket over a dark pair of jeans, peeks of a black and red checkered shirt un-tucked underneath. He certainly isn’t dressed the way Taehyun pictured him. Actually… Taehyun isn’t sure how he imagined Seungyoon in his head; he just assumed he’d have crazy long hair and a weird fashion sense to go with what Taehyun could only assume is a hipster lifestyle.

However, Taehyun is  _definitely_ not prepared for the Seungyoon that turns around to face him.

His disheveled hair falls just above his eyes which are fox-like and piercing,  _intense_ as he returns Taehyun’s gaze. He has a tall nose, a defined jaw, and the most ridiculously plump pair of lips that Taehyun easily imagines Seungyoon has been chewing on, because unless he’s wearing lipstick, they can’t possibly be  _that_  pink.

So _yeah_  Jinwoo can be predictable, but so is Taehyun. Because Seungyoon – the Seungyoon he came here angry with, fully intent on making the dude regret he ever said anything bad about Taehyun’s art – is Taehyun’s fucking type. And  _shit_ he’s probably the best-looking guy he’s seen in a long time.

Something catches in Taehyun’s throat and he inches back just a little when Seungyoon starts to walk towards him. There’s a confident lilt to his steps and Taehyun finds himself completely mesmerized. It’s embarrassing – he’s being so fucking embarrassing right now and fortunately he has enough sense to realize that he’s probably looking like an idiot with his mouth parted as he ogles the man, so Taehyun looks down and tries to collects himself.

“Nam Taehyun?”

 _Fuck._ Taehyun looks up and swallows a squeak because his _fucking voice_ is gritty and low and  _so fucking sexy_  and Taehyun does his best not to dwell on the fact that the first words out of his beautiful mouth is his name. 

“Yes,” he manages, squaring his shoulders to appear like he’s got a hold of himself when he clearly doesn’t. He just hopes Seungyoon doesn’t see it.

“I’m Kang Seungyoon,” he says without emotion, he doesn’t even smile or offer a hand and that knocks Taehyun down a peg, which is good (if not a little disappointing) because he really needs to focus on what he’s supposed to do here. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Before Taehyun could answer, Seungyoon is already walking across the room towards the mini-fridge next to a couple of amps. He bends down to open it and Taehyun tries so damn hard not to stare at his ass, but fails miserably because Seungyoon’s butt cheeks in his skinny jeans are cute and firm, unlike his that are round and fleshy, and they’re exactly how Taehyun likes them. He looks away when Seungyoon rises to his full height, a can of beer and soda balanced in one hand. He moves back to where Taehyun is (still surprisingly) standing and offers him a choice from the two.

Taehyun declines both with a wave of a hand and Seungyoon doesn’t insist, just shrugs and pops open the can of beer for himself, setting down the other on the coffee table.

“I’m here about the painting,” Taehyun says.

“Of course you are,” Seungyoon deadpans and takes a sip from his can. Taehyun notes the smugness in his voice and  _yes,_ this is exactly what he needs to focus. Because Seungyoon’s appearance aside, Taehyun has the right to be pissed off.

Taehyun sighs but it comes out as a low growl he’s sure Seungyoon heard because the other man’s jaw hardens when he catches Taehyun’s eyes again.

On his way to the studio, Taehyun ran through a few times in his head what he’s supposed to say to the man, and it was going to be glorious. It was going to make Seungyoon feel like shit because what does he know about visual art,  _really,_  certainly not as much as Taehyun does. But right now, Taehyun is drawing a blank. Seungyoon’s effect on him is unexpected; his stare is intimidating and Taehyun really detests himself right now. He’s so much better than this.

“I want to know why you hate it.” It comes out sounding petty, but it’s better than being silent.

Seungyoon flashes just a tiny fraction of a frown. “I never said that.”

“Well you’re not using it for your cover so you must have had a problem with it,” Taehyun argues. “And if you’re going as far as replacing me, that can only mean you’re not even considering the possibility that I can do something else. Something better.”

Seungyoon stays quiet for a long time, never tearing his eyes off of Taehyun. It makes Taehyun squirm but he does his best not to let it show, chin jutted out proudly as he matches Seungyoon’s gaze. The man looks like he’s searching for something in Taehyun’s face with how intensely he’s just staring at him. If Taehyun didn’t know any better, he’d think Seungyoon is going to swoop right in and kiss him. And no, that’s not wishful thinking on his part.

After the long silence, Seungyoon averts his gaze and turns around without a word. Taehyun is stuck between walking out of there and hurling cuss words in his wake as Seungyoon saunters back to the back of the drum set, acting like what Taehyun just said didn’t faze him at all. That is, until Seungyoon picks something up from behind the drum set.

Taehyun’s jaw slacks in surprise when Seungyoon comes back with his painting in his hands. He sets it up to lean against the couch and Taehyun flinches when he feels Seungyoon’s hands on his arms all of a sudden. The contact leaves him too dumbstruck to speak, allowing Seungyoon to move him a few steps without complaints. Soon, Taehyun is facing the couch, the painting in full view.

He can feel Seungyoon’s warm breath on his neck when he leans in from behind and Taehyun’s heartbeat spikes. He can’t see Seungyoon but he can imagine him standing way too close for comfort, causing Taehyun to freeze in place, afraid any tiny movement will result in _touching_  and this is _not_ the time to be thinking about touching.

“It’s a bicycle,” Seungyoon says next to his ear, snapping him out of his reverie.

Taehyun frowns.  _Well duh._ “It’s a shadow of a bicycle. And the shadow of a couple,” he clarifies. He looks at the painting closely anyway, trying to find reasons why anybody wouldn’t like it, but he really couldn’t. The brush strokes are good, the colors are beautiful and vivid. And he should know, he spent a quarter of his life studying art.

“It’s uninspired.”

Taehyun whips around instantly and sees Seungyoon with a detached look on his face. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Seungyoon shrugs, his expression staunch. “Your painting is uninspired.”

This time, Taehyun doesn’t hesitate to scoff. He doesn’t hide his disgust either. “Yeah  _sure_. Because you were  _very clear_ about what you wanted from me,” Taehyun replies, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “I asked Jinwoo hyung outright if there’s anything specific you want, and he told me this bullshit about painting from my heart, letting my own creative juices flow. So I execute  _my_ vision without  _your_ direction and you tell me it’s uninspired? You must be goddamn kidding me!”

Seungyoon’s lips thin out and he shuts his eyes in a loud sigh. When he matches Taehyun’s gaze again, there’s no remorse or apology – just a stiff, heated look that almost sets Taehyun off again.

“Our band is called  _Bicycles_ and you conveniently painted a  _bicycle,_ ” Seungyoon points out like it’s the most insulting thing he’s ever heard. “There’s nothing in your artwork that evokes even the slightest resonance of our music.”

Taehyun bites down on his lower lip, his whole body trembling with rage. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, especially from some musician who knows nothing about art. “Your songs are about love. This painting portrays that. And  _yes,_ I paid homage to your band’s  _brilliant_ name, I don’t see why I should be criticized for it when you gave me creative control!”

“What I gave you is  _trust_ ,” Seungyoon breathes out, jaw clenched in contained anger. “Those songs…  _this album_  – it’s an extension of myself. And you clearly don’t get that.”

“Are you looking down on my understanding of one’s art?”

Seungyoon runs a hand across his hair and sighs. “There’s one song in there that I wrote when I was sixteen and I experienced heartbreak for the first time,” he begins, his voice wistful. Taehyun is taken aback by the tenderness in his expression, the vulnerability that wasn’t there earlier.

“That was when I told my family that I want to make music, and I found out that the people I love the most are against me doing what I love the most. It was my first real heartbreak,” one side of Seungyoon’s lips curl up and Taehyun sucks in a breath. It’s the closest to a smile he’s gotten out of Seungyoon and it’s as alluring as he imagined it would be.

“Then there’s a song I co-wrote with Mino, my drummer and best friend. We were strolling in Myeongdong and we saw this couple who would not stop touching each other. Mino was grumbling because he was single at that time and I just found it funny. And so we just started making fun of all the icky things couples do – turned them into lyrics. But beneath those jokes are longing, yearning to have the same disgustingly sweet relationship that the couple had.”

Taehyun doesn’t know why Seungyoon is telling him these things, but he stands transfixed as Seungyoon continues. There’s something about the way he’s telling these stories that tugs at his chest, makes his stomach flutter. Seungyoon’s voice is full of sincerity, his eyes twinkling as though he’s whispering a secret.

“Track number four,” Seungyoon continues, “possibly my favorite. It’s a song I wrote half-drunk and angry –  _very angry._ But mostly regretful,” he turns to Taehyun and looks at him squarely in the eyes. “Because I gave four years of my life to someone who couldn’t even spare me the four minutes I needed to convince him to stay.”

Taehyun feels there just might be something large lodged in his throat because  _damn_ he can feel the pain in Seungyoon’s voice, and if his ears weren’t deceiving him, Seungyoon just referred to this someone as  _him._

“Why are you telling me–”

“I know you didn’t listen to the tracks,” Seungyoon doesn’t let him finish, a rigid expression now back on his face. Taehyun stiffens.

“Let me guess, you looked over the lyrics, decided they’re all generic love songs and let your own version of how you want  _your_ painting to look like take over. I can understand that feeling of ownership as an artist myself, this is  _your_ work,” he gestures to the painting and Taehyun swallows down something akin to guilt. “And I’m sorry that I offended you in any way or form. But this is a collaboration, and you decided to work on your own.”

Taehyun lets out a breath he’d been holding, unsure of what more to say. Seungyoon is right – he hadn’t listened to the tracks, and to be honest, Taehyun didn’t feel the need to. He was caught up trying to make sure his painting is perfect, something he’d be proud of after two years of not producing anything. His standards. His vision. His work. He had forgotten about the band. The music.

Taehyun doesn’t know if he’s more angry at himself or guilty or just plain ashamed. Seungyoon’s words cut like knives and this is not how he pictured this meeting was going to go. His gaze lingers over Seungyoon’s face for a few beats longer than necessary before he looks away.

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” Taehyun manages to say after a long pause, his gaze turning to the painting. “You can keep it. Throw it away if you like. You paid for the materials anyway.” He musters a half-smile when he looks up at Seungyoon again. “Best of luck on the album. And I hope you find a better artist.”

“We already have,” Seungyoon says, and it’s like a spear to Taehyun’s gut. He just nods and turns around to head for the door.

*****

 

Taehyun feels like shit. An understatement, really, because after arriving from the studio, he went straight for the kitchen and now has finished half a bag of marshmallows, what’s left of his favorite wine that he has reserved only for special occasions, and yet his mood is still above normal grumpy levels. He keeps replaying the scene at the studio in his head and screaming in his pillow whenever he remembers the look of disappointment on Seungyoon’s face – his  _gorgeous_ face. Fuck pride, fuck the money he really needs for next month’s rent, Taehyun  _knows_  he screwed up enormously.

And he didn’t even know Seungyoon before today but it bothers him so much that he screwed up in front of him.

He finally crawls out of the covers around midnight – he’d dozed off and woken up still feeling awful – and heads to the corner in his apartment he avoided looking at when he came home earlier. He hasn’t had a chance to clean up yet and he certainly doesn’t feel compelled to start now.

Walking to the small round table next to the canvas stand where a few sheets of papers are laid out, he retrieves the CD case from underneath the pile and gives it a long, hard look. There’s a pang in his chest and he lets out a sigh as he moves across the room to grab his laptop.

He pops the CD in and makes himself comfortable on his one-seater couch, pulling his legs up so he could hug his knees. It’s a little chilly at this time of the night and he can swear shivers run down his spine when Seungyoon’s voice fills the silence. He isn’t singing – not yet – and Taehyun slides a palm over his face upon grasping what he’s actually listening to.

It’s Seungyoon’s message for  _him_.

He narrates the story of how the album came about, how excited the band is about this, and the tales behind the songs. Something stirs in Taehyun’s gut again when he gets to the part about track number four.

He can’t quite be sure when Seungyoon found out Taehyun hasn’t listened to this – if he’d assumed it before Taehyun came barging in their studio, or if Seungyoon only confirmed his suspicion when Taehyun arrived clueless. Either way, Taehyun isn't any less ashamed.

 _“I’m looking forward to seeing the finished product,”_  Seungyoon’s voice is positively cheerful, something that Taehyun never got to hear in their conversation earlier.  _“Thank you for doing this.”_

If Taehyun isn’t already a wreck after that, the first track just has to play and Taehyun literally has to clutch his chest when Seungyoon’s singing voice floats through his small apartment. It’s deep and rich and unlike any other voice he’s heard before. Taehyun could tell that every line is heartfelt, as though Seungyoon is speaking the words right in front of him,  _only_ for him. He holds his legs tighter and sighs into his knees.

Taehyun made a terrible,  _terrible_ mistake.

His eyes close on instinct as he lets Seungyoon’s music take over.

 

It’s been a while since Taehyun has felt this way. He lets out a loud sigh, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling some of the paint smudge on the tip of his eyebrow. The edges of his lips tug up into a small smile as he takes a step back to get a full view of the painting.  _Done._ He chuckles to himself, more out of feeling obtuse than amused. If he only did this the first time, then maybe the meeting with Seungyoon could have gone a lot differently. It’s too late to regret that now.

 _Bicycles_ ’ songs still play in the background – as they have been for hours upon hours. Taehyun quirks his head up to look out his windows, sunlight seeping in through the blinds. Come to think of it, Taehyun has no idea what time it is now.

It was a complete trance. He doesn’t recall much of what happened last night except that after he finished listening to the last track and Seungyoon’s message starts playing again – Taehyun felt this overwhelming urge to paint. And that’s exactly what he did, for god knows how long, with just a few short interruptions when he made a quick trip to the kitchen to grab an apple and a couple of bathroom breaks.

The final product, well, he _can’t_ say it’s perfect. But it’s been a long time since something so potent compelled him like this, strong enough to override Taehyun’s innate perfectionist. And he might have been proud of the first painting, but this one – this one, he  _loves_. Because it finally feels like it  _is_ an extension of Seungyoon’s music, with little bits of Taehyun speckled in colors.

Taehyun finds himself bobbing his head to the song wafting through the room as he revels in his work, and when the music fades, he closes the laptop and reaches for his phone. There are several messages from Jinwoo since last night which he promptly ignores, going straight for the call.

Jinwoo picks up after the first ring.

“Tell me everything, Nam Taehyun,” Jinwoo blurts out before he can even say hello. “Did Seunghoon say anything about me? What was he wearing?”

“Hyung, I need you to do something for me.”

There’s a pregnant pause on Jinwoo’s end. “You’re not going to ask me to kill any of them, are you? Because I kind of really like this guy and I’d hate for murder to get in the way of that no matter how hurt you are.”

“I’m serious,” Taehyun glances at the canvas again, not in any mood to humor Jinwoo, his mind solely on the piece. He can actually bring it to the studio himself, but he isn’t sure he’s ready to see Seungyoon just yet. Or emotionally prepared for what he might say about the painting this time. “You need to come over and pick something up from here.”

“ _Shit_. Is it a body bag? Did you already kill one of them? Taehyun, I’m not good with bloo–“

“Hyung!” Jinwoo can be incorrigible; Taehyun really has no idea why he’s still friends with him.

“Fine. I can swing by around four,” Jinwoo relents, sounding less animated. “What is it anyway?”

“It’s a painting. A new one, for  _Bicycles_.”

Taehyun hears Jinwoo sigh from the other end. “Taehyun, they already found a replacement artist.”

“I know that,” he chews on his lower lip anxiously before he continues. “I don’t want the money. It’s okay if they don’t use it for the cover. I just… want to give it to them.”

The dramatic gasp Jinwoo makes doesn’t escape Taehyun, and he can actually imagine how exaggerated he must look right now. “Are you serious? You’re  _giving_ them a new painting?  _For free?_ It’s not made of animal blood, is it?”

“It’s not,” Taehyun frowns. “And yes, I’m giving it to them. You can tell them that when you deliver it yourself.”

“Who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“You can’t fool me, Taehyun. Who charmed your socks off? Because I’ve seen them, talked to them. They’re a bunch of hotties, but you already know that. So who is it?”

“Just come by at four,” Taehyun hangs up and chucks the phone on the couch, telling himself that Jinwoo _is_ annoying and Taehyun needs at least eight hours of sleep before he can stand a conversation longer than a minute with him, and not, in fact, because he refuses to answer Jinwoo’s question.

He feels heat rise to his cheeks when he thinks about Seungyoon. Did Taehyun do this to right his wrong? Or did he do it for _him_? He looks at the painting again, and he swears, he could hear Seungyoon’s songs playing in his head.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , Taehyun thinks. He just knows he did the right thing – if not for the band, then for himself. He yawns and stretches his limbs, feeling the exhaustion kick in. He has a couple of hours before Jinwoo arrives. A nap is in order.

*****

 

After endless back-and-forths with himself, Taehyun now _believes_ it’s a bad idea. And he might have tried to talk himself out of it a few times on his way there, but all efforts proved to be futile because before he knew it, he’s standing a few steps away from the entrance, falling in queue. There’s a bunch of rowdy people still trying to get tickets from shady-looking scalpers, which makes him glad he didn’t put off the buying part.

The  _going_ part, on the other hand, has always been up in the air.

Truthfully, Taehyun had spent quite some time researching everything he could on  _Bicycles_ and, well, he now has a better idea of just how popular they are. Of course they’re not as popular as most mainstream bands, but they’re practically  _indie princes,_ praised by fans and critics alike. And it does help their growing fan base that their looks could rival most idol groups these days.

Not that their looks could ever take away from their music, in Taehyun’s highbrow opinion. The band may be nice to look at, but it's their music that's at the heart of their popularity. Taehyun has quite possibly seen every fantaken video out there of their performances, and  _yes,_ he may or may not know their entire discography now, not to mention  _It Rains_  may or may not have replaced  _Someone Like You_ as his go-to shower song. It’s safe to say he’s a full-fledged fan so he  _does_  have a right to be here. He just doesn’t want to be seen.

Which is why he rejected Jinwoo’s offer to get him a ticket (he emphasized a number of times that he has ‘connections’  _wink wink_ ) and Taehyun had to pretend that he isn’t  _Bicycles’_  number one fan just to get out of it. Jinwoo was insistent, but Taehyun could be very stubborn. Or more accurately, very good at  _pretending_  to be stubborn. Little did Jinwoo know that Taehyun was probably one of the first to purchase a ticket to their album launch showcase and he’s been anxious all week.

It’s been a month and a half since Taehyun sent them the painting. Jinwoo didn’t tell him anything much, except that they sent their thanks and apologies for how things panned out.

It bummed Taehyun for about two weeks before he came into terms with the reality that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. A few regrets aside, at least Taehyun can say he did everything he can and got the guilt out of his system.

Now if only he can get one guy out of his system.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about Seungyoon since – although playing his songs on loop and watching his videos probably didn’t help. Seungyoon not only has the voice of an angel, his stage charisma and charm are off the charts. Even if Taehyun hadn’t met Seungyoon in person, or heard all those stories behind his music, he’d still be smitten.

And If only Taehyun didn’t completely blow his chances with him by acting like an entitled brat, then maybe he wouldn’t be coming to this showcase like some ninja. And  _maybe_ he’d actually get the guts to face him again.

He chooses a spot a little farther away from the stage, but still close enough to get to see Seungyoon’s face clearly. He only had to wait thirty minutes before the show starts, and soon the band saunters onto the stage to the cheers of the audience. The noise level raises several decibels higher when Seungyoon walks up to his mic stand, looking every bit the rockstar he is. He’s wearing a simple blue and white flannel shirt and ripped jeans, guitar strapped around his torso, but his aura – Taehyun sighs way too dreamily it gives Jinwoo a run for his money –  is remarkable.

The lights dim before a single spotlight hits Seungyoon’s face. Taehyun discovers he’s even more breathtaking onstage.

The next hour has Taehyun practically swooning in place nonstop because as amazing as it had been to watch the videos and listen to the tracks, nothing –  _nothing_ can beat witnessing firsthand the passion with which Seungyoon sings, as though every movement of his body, every tiny smirk, every blink, every sway of his hips, is a fragment of the song. The crowd is just as captivated as he is, and Taehyun resents a little that he has to share this moment – only to catch himself feeling stupid, thinking this must be how every fan girl feels.

Time flies by too fast when you’re having fun, and for Taehyun whose idea of good entertainment these days is staying in to marathon crappy dramas, this outing is fantastic. But soon, Seungyoon is introducing the last song – Taehyun’s absolute favorite, and he leans against the wall right next to him, sighing as he takes in Seungyoon’s features under the lights.

Who knows when Taehyun is going to see him again, and unless he actually attends his shows from now on, there’s no chance for them to ever bump into each other. Unfortunately he can’t even consider that option because that would mean possibly being caught by Jinwoo, and last Taehyun checked, he and Seunghoon are still very much banging each other.

“We’ll see you at the lobby for cocktails and the unveiling of the album,” Seungyoon finishes with a radiant smile before a familiar melody engulfs the room. Taehyun starts singing along.

 

Taehyun’s game plan is this: wait until the lobby is packed, stay hidden for whatever toast and grand unveiling is to take place, get his limited edition CD that goes with the VIP ticket he purchased (he could do without the autograph,  _begrudgingly)_ and leave without being noticed by Jinwoo or any of the band members. He figures it’s easy to dodge the band because they’d be too busy fending off their hundreds of fans – but Jinwoo,  _well_ , Jinwoo kind of has this ability to sniff him out in the crowd and Taehyun no longer has the darkness of the concert venue to his advantage. He has to be careful.

He stays in a less conspicuous corner, hiding behind two taller men who seem to have accompanied their girlfriends to this concert and didn’t really want to be there, judging by how much shit they’re spouting about the  _vocalist_. Taehyun has to stifle a laugh when one of them actually starts humming a  _Bicycles_ song and the other compliments that it actually sounds good – even though the band is  _terrible._

Taehyun quietly sips on his glass of vodka soda, keeping his head down throughout the night. He sneaks peeks at the center of the lobby, angling just right so it’s Seungyoon he sees every time.

He’s almost done with his second drink when the unthinkable happens.

Because sometime between his last sip and making the decision to rush to the bathroom, Jinwoo has managed to sneak up on him and is now standing beside him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Taehyun lets out a rather loud  _‘what the fuck’_  that has the people standing nearby, including the two gentlemen in front of Taehyun, turning towards them to look.

“Hyung.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know you’d come?” Jinwoo’s smile is disgustingly cloying, and it’s not so much a smile as it is really a menacing expression that means Jinwoo is pissed. Taehyun opens his mouth to explain but Jinwoo is quick to raise a hand to stop him. “The next time you go to my boyfriend’s concert and plan to keep it from me, make sure you don’t use your real name when you’re buying the VIP ticket.”

Taehyun cocks a brow, sucking in his cheeks to keep himself from smiling. “Boyfriend?”

“That’s not the point.”

“But you conveniently dropped the word anyway.”

Jinwoo turns to him, frowning, which doesn’t do much in the way of intimidation because his eyes are practically sparkling with glee. “ _That’s not the point._ Stop changing the subject.”

Taehyun knows he can’t really weasel himself out of this so he concedes. “What do you want me to say? You already caught me red-handed. I’m sorry, okay?”

Jinwoo studies his face for a few seconds then smiles, hooking his arm around Taehyun’s. “It’s great that you’re here. Come with me.”

“What? No!” Taehyun’s eyes grow wide. “I’m not showing myself to the band. That’s why I secretly came, remember?”

“Well tough luck because you  _have_ to.”

“What are you talking about?”

Before Jinwoo could give him an answer, Taehyun’s whole body freezes in place. Because Seungyoon’s voice suddenly fills the room and  _fuck_ – did he just say Taehyun’s name? He’s too startled to realize that Jinwoo is tugging at his arm, pulling him to the center of the lobby. Taehyun has no idea what is happening – why the guests are suddenly looking at him, smiling, applauding. He can’t possibly be drunk already, can he?

And when he finally gathers enough wits to glance towards direction of where Jinwoo is hauling him towards, it dawns on him.

Beside Seungyoon whose smile is as complacently dazzling and fucking beautiful as ever – is Taehyun’s painting.

His stomach drops to his knees, totally floored by this startling development, and there is little he could do to hide his shock. It’s like there’s a five second delay on his end of things and all at once, he’s standing beside his own painting, facing the audience with what must be a flabbergasted expression on his face. The only thought clearest to him at that moment is how he should’ve worn his best pair of jeans.

Just then, Seungyoon’s voice fills the room again. “The man behind the album cover, the talented, young artist, Nam Taehyun!”

This must be some otherworldly second dimension kind of shit because Taehyun can’t believe what’s happening. There are clicks of cameras and bright flashes in his eyes; everyone is staring, cheering like Taehyun is someone they know and someone important. He manages to smile in his daze and tip his head in a series of very awkward bows to the audience before his eyes land on Seungyoon’s – who’s clapping and beaming.  _At him._  With the sort of smile that is physically painful. It makes Taehyun’s breath hitch and his cheeks burn and he hopes to god he doesn’t look like an idiot in front of hundreds of people.

If he hasn’t managed to kill Jinwoo after all those times he really,  _really_ wanted to, then this is it. Jinwoo is a dead man.

 

Amidst the mini-chaos of album-signing and picture-taking and a lot of socializing, Taehyun hides near the stairwell where he’s on his fifth glass for the night. He isn’t buzzed,  _not yet,_ because whenever he remembers what the hell just happened, he sobers up immediately and slaps himself for good measure to guarantee he isn’t just having one of his alcohol-induced dreams and is in fact, in his room, still lamenting the what-could-have-been’s.

Jinwoo comes to him once in a while and tries to coax him into mingling, insisting that there are some people who would like to meet him. But it takes only a hiss and a snarl from Taehyun to get Jinwoo to back off and traipse right back into the party. And the man knows he owes Taehyun.

After the unveiling, Taehyun dashed for the comfort room with Jinwoo in tow, and there, Jinwoo narrated how it was his  _brilliant_ idea to surprise Taehyun and somehow, he convinced the band to play along with it. And he even added that things would have gone a lot smoother if Taehyun just accepted his invite in the first place.

So in a way, it was partly Taehyun’s fault, he argued, and Jinwoo – bless his quick reflexes that make up for his lack of sense – ran out of the bathroom when Taehyun began to wheeze in anger. Because not only has this whole thing blindsided him, it also managed to make Taehyun miserable for more than a month, thinking he’d been rejected twice. To make matters worse, Jinwoo’s scheme had prevented him from meeting Seungyoon when he could have had every reason to.

The crowd thins out gradually, Taehyun stays as per instruction of Jinwoo. He shouldn’t be listening to the man anymore but if it gives Taehyun a chance to maybe get a punch in after the party, then he isn’t going to say no to that.

A waiter hands him his sixth drink, which he gladly accepts. He takes a sip, and over the glass rim, he sees Seungyoon walking towards him.

“Hey, you okay?”

Taehyun straightens up and smiles faintly. He’s followed Seungyoon’s movement around the lobby with his eyes, but it’s different when he’s up close.  He's so much more handsome, and looking extra cute in a blazer over a graphic tee. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Can you, uhh, come with me for a minute?”

Taehyun pauses for an awkward second before nodding. Seungyoon looks a little shy, too. Taehyun realizes it’s the first time they’re actually talking after that confrontation at the studio.

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Taehyun rises to his feet, leaving his glass on the table and following Seungyoon across the room.

It’s getting really late and Taehyun supposes most of the people left are staff and friends. He sees Jinwoo out of the corner of his eye, looking extra comfortable leaning against Seunghoon. The man’s arm is wrapped around Jinwoo’s waist possessively as they share laughs with some of the crew and the rest of the band members. He smiles at the sight, momentarily forgetting how mad he’s supposed to be at Jinwoo, and feels genuinely happy for his friend.

Seungyoon leads him into an office, and Taehyun figures it belongs to whoever manages the place. The first thing he sees is his painting on a canvas stand and naturally he gravitates towards it. He hasn’t had a chance to look closely since he asked Jinwoo to give it to them, and he was in too much of a trance to register anything else earlier during the unveiling.

He stands a meter away, eyes raking over the myriad of colors, examining the brush strokes through the lens of an objective artist, and he thinks that the paint cured really nicely.

“It’s beautiful,” a voice behind him says and when Taehyun whirls around, Seungyoon is standing way too close. He takes a step to the side on instinct, ignoring the thundering of his heart at the sudden proximity. Seungyoon naturally falls beside him, unaware of his effect on Taehyun, gaze flitting to the painting.

“Jinwoo hyung told me everything,” he offers, turning to Taehyun. His eyes are clear and sincere, and there’s maybe a flicker of guilt there. “I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t have agreed to the surprise if I knew you’d be uncomfortable. I actually thought it wasn’t such a good idea at the time, but the man can be very persuasive.”

“You mean aggravatingly persistent,” Taehyun corrects and Seungyoon chuckles, and it’s an infectious sound that rings in Taehyun’s ears. He bites down his lower lip to stop himself from grinning like an idiot.

“Here,” Seungyoon hands him a white envelope, a shy smile playing at the side of his lips. “I know you said you’re not expecting any payment. But it’s only right that you do, since we ended up using your work.”

Taehyun lifts a hand to take it, returning the smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“ _And_  I personally wanted to give you this,” Seungyoon draws out his other hand, holding a copy of their album. Taehyun looks down and sees his painting on the cover, along with the name  _Bicycles_ embossed on the lower right. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating and validating all at once – seeing his work on the album. And it dawns on him now that just as thousands of people will experience a piece of Seungyoon by way of his music, they’ll also be bringing home with them a piece of Taehyun. His smile widens as he meets Seungyoon’s eyes to receive it.

“I don’t know how you did it in less than a day,” Seungyoon continues, holding his gaze. “The painting is perfect. And it makes me all the more sorry about the things I said to you at the studio.”

“Perfect is an upgrade from uninspired, I’ll tell you that,” Taehyun ribs, and Seungyoon flushes pink at the cheeks. It’s downright adorable and Taehyun doesn’t hold back a giggle. “I’m kidding. You were right – it was uninspired. I should have listened to the album beforehand. As a matter of fact, that’s what I did the whole time I was painting this. I’ve probably memorized all your songs by heart.”

Seungyoon blinks at him as though he’s surprised at Taehyun’s straightforwardness, before he breaks into a satisfied grin, and  _damn_  his face is really distracting. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why an amusement park?”

Taehyun purses his lips and turns to the canvas again. His painting is indeed a scene at an amusement park nearing dusk – all vivid colors and tiny details that blend seamlessly into one picture. Taehyun takes a step closer and urges Seungyoon to follow. Seungyoon’s eyebrows pinch upwards in intrigue, but he complies anyway. Taehyun decides to be a bit bolder and presses a hand on Seungyoon’s arm while the other points to something on the painting.

“You see this? A little boy with a ukulele, pulling his mother towards the ferris wheel. But she stands her ground and says no. She hates heights, you see, and she just wants her little boy to be safe,” Taehyun explains and Seungyoon gives him a knowing smile. Taehyun tries not to get too distracted by how incredibly close their faces are and clears his throat, pointing to another scene. “And here, a couple kissing next to a wedding booth, and two best friends laughing next to a hotdog stand.”

Seungyoon nods in understanding and Taehyun shifts to face him. “We usually get too caught up in our own lives that we don’t realize every person in a crowd has a story. A seemingly careless person you bump into on your way to the Carousel may have his reasons for being in a hurry,” Taehyun explains, and he doesn’t miss the way Seungyoon’s eyes glimmer as he listens with rapt attention. Taehyun smiles.

“What I love about your album is each song is a tale that not only stands on its own, but is also interwoven with the rest of the tracks and consciously so. I went through several emotions listening to them. I guess it’s how one can feel at an amusement park? Blissfully happy, excited, scared, exhausted,” Taehyun pauses. “ _Heartbroken_ ,” he points to another scene where two lovers are on the verge of pulling away, only two entwined fingers left connecting them.

Seungyoon’s face is calm, if not a little somber, and Taehyun wonders if it might still be too touchy a topic for him to broach. He feels a little sting in his chest at the thought that Seungyoon might still be affected by the asshole who left him, but he tries to school his expression.

“And what’s this?”

“Hmm?” Taehyun stiffens as soon as he sees what Seungyoon is pointing at. It’s another man – closer to one of the lovers, an arm outstretched as if asking the man to take his hand instead. Taehyun feels himself blush, the back of his neck heating up. He purses his lips, fighting an embarrassed smile.

“Uhh, I kind of took creative liberties with that one,” Taehyun says. “You know, uhh, to signify… possibilities,” he struggles to clarify when he sees a glint of amusement in Seungyoon’s face. Taehyun laughs to diffuse the tension, but quickly chokes when Seungyoon inches closer.

“I like it,” Seungyoon says, catching his lower lip between his teeth before releasing it with a pop, and Taehyun is  _very close_ to thinking this is suggestive. “Possibilities, huh?”

“Yeah,” Taehyun chuckles some more, gracelessly, moving back a tiny bit for his own self-preservation. Because Seungyoon smells too damn good and Taehyun can do very little to stop himself from staring at Seungyoon’s lips which are even more luscious up close.

Seungyoon must have sensed Taehyun’s reaction because he changes the topic and backs away a little. Taehyun tries not to look _too_ disappointed.

“Anyway, the painting is great,” Seungyoon says. “And it makes me wish I could have thanked you sooner. I’m sorry again for the whole surprise thing.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“And just so you know,” Seungyoon continues, eyes wavering it almost seems as if he’s  _nervous_? “I thought about you a lot. I mean, even before you gave us this painting. And if I were only half as persuasive as Jinwoo hyung, I would never have agreed to the surprise thing because that meant not being able to contact you all this time. And that sucked. Because I really,  _really_ wanted to.”

If it were possible for Taehyun to physically melt, he would have been reduced to a puddle by now. But he pulls himself together – Seungyoon is a born charmer and for all he knows what he means is to contact him to apologize. So he feigns nonchalance instead. “Oh yeah? For what?”

Seungyoon hesitates, blinking a couple of times, and Taehyun reins in the urge to run his fingers across his eyelashes.

“I don’t know. Coffee? Dinner?” Seungyoon gives him a lopsided smile. “Whichever you prefer.”

This time Taehyun isn’t able to keep himself from breaking into a grin. He now has a very legitimate reason to break all ties with Jinwoo, because his ridiculous surprise has kept him from this. From  _Seungyoon,_ who is still the most good-looking man he’s seen in a long time, and the subject of his not-so-wholesome fantasies. Seungyoon, who, quite possibly is a future rock superstar and, if Taehyun isn’t hearing things, just asked him out.

“I kind of like concerts now,” Taehyun says sheepishly. “But yes to coffee and dinner and let’s throw in brunch, if you’re into that. Maybe even breakfast. I love breakfast.”

Seungyoon’s laughter fills the office and  _shit_ Taehyun really likes how he laughs, eyes crinkling, cheeks puffed. The sound is melodious, no different from when he’s singing. It makes him wonder if the other sounds Seungyoon makes would be the same. He blushes at the thought.

“Great. You should probably give me your number then,” Seungyoon reaches behind his jeans and pulls out his phone. Taehyun gladly takes it, entering his number wrongly a couple of times out of excitement, and maybe nerves, because _holy shit_ Kang Seungyoon just asked for his number.

Taehyun is about to give back the phone when he feels Seungyoon’s hand on his face, tilting his chin up to look at him. Taehyun’s heart jumps at the contact, hammers against his ribcage when Seungyoon leans closer, and stills completely as soon as Seungyoon presses a kiss on Taehyun’s lips. Warmth pools in his chest and his hands make their way to the sides of Seungyoon’s waist to steady himself, because his knees might just give out with the way Seungyoon’s lips move on his. Soft and gentle and coaxing, nothing too hot and heavy. Just incredibly sweet.

They pull away and Seungyoon leans his forehead on Taehyun’s. They both sigh at the same time, followed by a faint chuckle. “I’m sorry,” Seungyoon’s voice is delicate, his thumb still rubbing circles on Taehyun’s cheek. “I’ve just been wanting to do that all night and I guess I don’t have as much self-control as I thought.”

Taehyun smirks and presses even closer. He feels the heat of Seungyoon’s breaths against his skin and it’s spine-tingling and marvelous. “Oh believe me, no harm done.”

Seungyoon places a kiss on Taehyun’s cheek and he feels himself flush instantly. It's a move so tender and adorable Taehyun could just melt right into his arms.

“How many hours until breakfast? I’m not sure I can wait until then to see you again,” Seungyoon says, the tip of his nose brushing his. Taehyun feels like his heart is about to burst. After this, there’s no way he can wait either.

“How about a midnight snack then?” Taehyun suggests.

Seungyoon smiles. “Perfect.”

*****

 

“Seriously? They’re on in twenty minutes!” Taehyun nearly screams when he sees Jinwoo still on Seunghoon’s lap, only giving him a scowl and a dismissive wave before nuzzling Seunghoon’s neck again. Taehyun groans and turns on his heel – the producers will just have to deal with them now – and shuts the door, slithering his way through staff rushing about.

He cranes his neck to scan the backstage area, looking for that messy head of hair he hasn’t seen since sound check. It’s easy to get lost among all these people and he’d really like to wish him luck before they go up.

Just then, he feels strong arms encircle his waist, Taehyun gasps and he twists around to see two excited eyes staring back at him.

“Hey babe,” Seungyoon presses a kiss on his cheek, making him blush. Seungyoon has a penchant for public displays of intimacy, something Taehyun doesn’t share. But he can’t deny it does make his heart flutter that Seungyoon always wants to show the world how he feels around him.

“Are you ready?” Taehyun tries to pull away, tugging his arms down, but Seungyoon is one step ahead and locks his fingers behind Taehyun’s back, heaving him closer. Taehyun bounces against his chest, frowning. “Seungyoon.”

“Can you just stick to me, please? I’m nervous.”

Taehyun scoffs. “You’re never nervous.”

Seungyoon smacks his lips together before flashing him a sly smile. “Okay, you got me. I just want you close.”

“Babe,” Taehyun is about to protest when Seungyoon swoops in to catch his lips. It instantly sends dizzying waves through Taehyun and he sighs onto the kiss, knowing full well he’ll always be weak to this. To  _everything_  that has to do with Seungyoon, especially when it involves his lips.

Singing. Talking. Kissing.  _Other things he shouldn’t really be thinking right now because Seungyoon is about to go onstage._

When Seungyoon pulls away, he’s all mischievous smiles and glinting eyes and  _okay_ maybe Taehyun doesn’t care so much about public displays of intimacy, if it means he gets to be intimate with Kang Seungyoon.

“ _Jesus_   _freaking Christ_ , get a room,” Jinwoo pipes with distaste, Seunghoon right next to him already laughing his ass off at the face Taehyun makes. Before Taehyun can return with a snippy retort, Seungyoon already pulls him aside.

“What are you doing, you have to be on stage,” Taehyun reminds him, but Seungyoon is intent on not listening, and instead, he pulls Taehyun into a hug. Taehyun’s insides melt right away and he smiles against Seungyoon’s neck. “What is it this time? Don’t tell me you’re really nervous?”

“I’m not.”

“So what’s with all the touching?”

“I love you.”

Taehyun’s heart skips a beat. Seungyoon is the type never to hold out on his I love you’s but Taehyun still gets the flutters every time. “You know I love you, too, right? But this is hardly the right time…”

“It’s always the right time,” Seungyoon pushes him off slightly, eyes boring into his. “Someone just reminded me that today is the third anniversary of our album launch.”

Taehyun’s eyes widen as a gush of memories come flooding back. “You mean–“

“Yep,” Seungyoon grins. “The third anniversary of our first kiss.”

“Oh we did more than kiss that night and you know it,” Taehyun corrects, raising a brow.

Seungyoon throws his head back in a peal of laughter, and Taehyun can’t help but still be amazed at how composed Seungyoon could be when he’s about to go on stage. It’s one of the things he loves about him, how assured he is of himself, especially in his craft.

“You’re right,” he pulls Taehyun in again. “I just thought I should tell you I’m really glad you walked into my life with that awful painting of yours.”

“Hey!” Seungyoon dodges Taehyun’s hand and catches it instead. He places a kiss at the back of his palm.

“I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you, Taehyun. And I mean it.”

Taehyun bites on his cheeks to keep himself from tearing up because he’s really close to it. If anything, it’s Seungyoon who has helped him get this far. He would have never started painting again if it wasn’t for that opportunity three years ago. And it’s Seungyoon’s confidence in his own music that made Taehyun more confident about his art, too. He may not be as successful is his world-famous boyfriend, but he’s leaps and bounds better than who he used to be.

However, the gratitude in Seungyoon’s eyes is genuine, the affection in his touch heartfelt. And Taehyun takes comfort in the fact that he has given Seungyoon as much as he has given him.

Taehyun has a lot to say, but he doesn’t get to answer when Seungyoon’s very frantic manager walks up to them and starts screaming at Seungyoon to hurry up. Taehyun laughs, waves him off when Seungyoon flashes him a sad parting look. Taehyun doesn't really fret about it though. Anyway, he'll have all the time in the world later to tell Seungyoon just how much he loves him, and the rest of his life to show it.

That night was the best show  _Bicycles_ has given ever – in the biggest venue in Seoul. Taehyun’s artwork – their latest album cover that topped all the charts – is splayed across its hallowed walls.

The indie rocker and the struggling artist. Taehyun smiles. They make a great team.

*** * * * ***

 

**Author's Note:**

> The world deserves a lot more kangnam. :)


End file.
